


Consider Us Even

by SupremeLeaderRen13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupremeLeaderRen13/pseuds/SupremeLeaderRen13
Summary: After his defeat on Starkiller Base, Kylo Ren requests the presence of a particular spy from the First Order. General Hux seeks to turn this to his advantage, but cannot anticipate the result.





	Consider Us Even

**Author's Note:**

> Did I spend three hours writing this casual smut this morning just to avoid dissertation review and adding to my longer WIPs? You bet I did, because I am a horrible and lazy person!  
> Alas, off to do some actual work now.  
> May the Force be with you, always.

No one ever talks about us in the First Order.  
They’ve seen us, surely. We skitter amongst the best of them, tiny visitor badges on our dark, nondescript clothes. Blending in, that’s the key to our success. We don’t need the armor of bounty hunters, or the elaborate disguises of true spies. It is as ourselves that we succeed the best. No sane person (or politician, at least) will confide in a dimly lit bar or stranger they met hours before. But convince a man or woman that you love them, and they will fold like a cleaved planet.  
That is why I am here. I have one particular client that pays above all others for my information. The trooper standing guard at the set of double doors nods at me and activates the unlocking mechanism. It is not as brightly lit in here as in the corridor, and I take a minute to get my bearings. He rises from an elaborate obsidian desk—pretentious, but I would expect nothing else.  
“Gentleman, if you’ll excuse me.” Three officers rise from the table, each casting me a curious glance. I spare them a quick onceover. No familiar faces, which is always a relief. One of them glares at me in a sudden understanding, and I can feel the disapproval rolling off him. I keep my eyes on the ceiling, unashamed. I am wealthy, and I am spared from the wrath of the Order. No doubt this man has done far worse than I.  
“Circe.” General Hux brings my gloved hand to his lips and I do my best to keep my expression neutral. Whatever he wants, it must be big. Powerful men always want women to hang on their every word. If you can withhold interest long enough, they’ll tell you everything in an effort to impress. Women are the opposite. They want you to entertain them by winning the conversation volley. Hux, being the former, gestures to an ornate chair in his sitting area.  
“I was glad to get your message. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back.” A cur’s smile flits across his face, no warmth to it. We both know I wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave.  
“My work took a little longer than expected,” I allowed. Hux’s green eyes narrowed keenly.  
“Not work for me, though.”  
“Not for you, no. But you know you’re my favorite here.” I let the corners of my mouth flick upwards, just the barest hint of a smile. The general exhales without realizing it, just as simple as the rest of them. He recovers himself quickly.  
“Oh Circe, you’re a liar, but not where it counts.” He leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over his knee. “Have you looked at your comlink since you returned?”  
I think of the thing, discarded in my bag somewhere. “No. I’d only just stepped off the ship when one of your lackeys accosted me. What’s the job?”  
“It’s not for me.”  
“Oh?” I glance around the room in case I have missed someone lurking in the shadows. “Then I suppose it’s safe to presume that you’ve paid someone to keep tabs on my records.”  
“Don’t make that face, darling, it’s just for security. Tell me, why have you never mentioned that I pay you nearly double what anyone else does?”  
I shrug. “You never asked.”  
He laughs. Armitage Hux has never wanted for anything, especially not credits. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I will be paying you triple for any information you bring me on this request.”  
“Spit it out, Hux. I’m all ears.” He frowns a little at my tone, but lets the hammer fall all the same.  
“Kylo Ren has requested you.”  
I snort, trying to hide my shock. “What would the Jedi Killer want with me?”  
“I assume what everyone wants with you.” Hux smirks and places his hand over mine again. “I would pay richly for anything he tells you.”  
His hand is hot on mine. I jerk away. “No. I’ve heard about this man. They say he’s a monster, you should hear the stories they tell in the Outer Rim. That he can crack open a mind like nothing, destroy your sanity, choke the air from your lungs. Some say that even Darth Vader couldn’t—“  
“He is no Vader,” Hux snaps. His anger takes me by surprise.  
“I’m sorry, Hux. I can’t risk my life so you can get one up on this sandbox rivalry.”  
“Five times the usual rate.”  
“No.” I’m standing, ready to erase that request from my archives and get the hell out of here, when Hux grabs my wrist.  
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you could leave, Circe?” I freeze. “If you do this, I will pay off your debt to Crimson Dawn, or whatever it is you lingering few call yourselves. Do you even have a leader anymore? It would be nothing to set you up on a planet of your choice.”  
Now you see that I too, am guilty of saying too much to a lover. People are stupid by nature, and none are dumber than a twenty year old in the arms of a handsome young general about to come to power. Seven years and he’s never forgotten a word I told him.  
“I will meet with him,” I allow. “Tonight. And you will have my answer by tomorrow morning.” Assuming he doesn’t see this planned betrayal in my mind and kill me where I stand, I think privately.  
Hux smiles like a viper. “Excellent. You’ll be happy to know I already accepted on your behalf. “

It’s like there is a shark in the water—there is no one in this part of the ship as I walk down the corridors, head bowed. I am the stupid guppy that has wandered too far away from the school, and I feel every ounce of trepidation settling in my shoulders. Hux would tell me nothing about him, whether he was old or young, some alien species, or a deformed monster, as some of the stories would tell it. Walking in blindly was my least favorite way to meet a client.  
There is no sound from behind his door. I punch in the code that I was sent and it slides open, making me jump a little. Annoyed with myself, I step into the room. To my surprise, it’s brighter than Hux’s, albeit more plain. There’s more clutter around too, something I had always found comforting in the minimalism of space. Papers splayed over a desk, a datapad on the table.  
“Circe.” The voice is modulated, the syllables of my name falling into a deep timbre. I turn to face the Supreme Leader’s monster.  
He’s huge. My first foolish thought. For some reason, I had imagined a ghost of man with unnatural powers, but his figure is solidly human. On my way to my knees, I note the breadth of his shoulders, the cascading robes, and the battle-worn helmet that hides his face. Not just a monster, but a powerfully built one at that. Stars, I’m shaking.  
“Lord Ren,” I speak in a murmur as I kneel before him. He takes my hand to gently pull me to my feet.  
“Don’t do that.” He looks me up and down before circling around me slowly. I’m seized by the ridiculous desire that he find me ugly and send me away.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t do that either,” he mutters, sounding bad tempered—I think. “I was told you had some backbone. Please don’t lose it on my account.”  
“It must have been your warm welcome.” I twist my face up to his. It’s unnerving not to see his eyes. He could be anyone under that mask.  
“You’re afraid of me. You should be. But I don’t want you to be.” There’s emphasis on the want, and the last three words come out stilted.  
Whatever he might be hiding, I feel like this is honest. “Okay,” I nod and switch tactics. “Tell me about yourself.”  
“There’s nothing to know.” Oh, there is so much that I want to know, and the fact that he doesn’t want to tell it makes it that much more intriguing. I bring my hands to his belt and he stiffens but doesn’t stop me. Once that’s off, it’s easy to peel away the other layers—the thick robes hit the ground with a soft thump, and then he pulls the tunic off. I thought it would decrease his mass, but he only looks stronger when exposed like this. Scars crisscross his body, some too precise to be accidental. There’s a long, deep one ending at his should that looks like it extends into his helmet. I wonder…  
“I’ve heard otherwise,” I say brazenly. I haven’t marked him yet, but I’m guessing he could be a talker if coaxed. Gently, insistently, I lead him to an armless chair and push him down in it. Just another man, I try to convince myself. Just like all the others. I swing my leg over his lap, straddling him. The blackness of the eye shield gives nothing away, but he tilts his head slightly. He’s trying to figure me out as well.  
“Tell me,” he says, so much later I nearly forgotten what we were talking about. “What you’ve heard,” he amends. I bring my lips to his neck and he bows his head toward me reflexively. I gently guide his chin the other way with two figures on the mask, granting me better access. I bite down gently on his pale skin and he sighs through the helmet and kicks one leg out, jostling me.  
“I’ve heard you came from a royal bloodline.” All this said in one breath, and then I’m back to my slow assault on his skin. I can feel his throat hum as he answers me.  
“Only partially true at best.”  
My hands slide down the hard planes of his stomach, which clenches. He’s not used to being touched, this knight. I run my fingers down his ribs, counting the notches, until he relaxes again and my hands continue their roaming.  
“They call you the Jedi Killer. With good reason?”  
“Fitting but a title I am not yet worthy of.” This has irritated him—I move on. I slide off his lap and position myself between his legs, which I nudge a little wider. This is one of my silent power games. I want people to open for me, be completely vulnerable. It makes me feel less so. My fingers are tugging at the waist of his pants and he lifts his hips for me obligingly, allowing me to slide them off. I swallow back my first inkling of desire at the size of him, my fingers trailing playfully through the coarse, dark pubic hair. When I wind my hand around the base of his shaft, he makes his first involuntary noise of the evening and I smile.  
“What is it like, working for Leader Snoke? You must be close with him.” I follow this question with a teasing lick, trailing from his length to the head. His cock jerks a little in my hand, and I decide to stop teasing in the interest of an answer. I take him in my mouth, bobbing my head for several excruciatingly slow pulls before I start experimenting. My tongue circles around the head, I graze my teeth over his shaft, suck hard on the tip. Every man has one move that will make him arch his back, desperate for more, stomach muscles flinching. I aim to find his.  
“Tell me,” he speaks while twisting in the chair, in spite of himself. “What else does Hux want to know about me?” It would take a fool not to pick up on the danger in his voice, even with a modulator, but it’s already too late by the time he speaks. Something hits me in the chest so hard that I land on my back with a bang. It stuns me, and I watch him pull up his pants from what feels like far away.  
He squats down next to me, his breathing fast through the modulator.  
“You knew you would be caught before you even walked in here. So why did you come?”  
I open my mouth, then shut it again. If I’m going to die, there’s no point in embarrassing myself further. There’s a sharp pain in my head, a flash of Hux’s face, and then it’s gone again.  
“Ah.” Now the knight’s voice takes on a different tone. “I can see how that offer would be tempting.” He’s nodding to himself, deciding something. My stomach fills with dread when he raises a hand and catches something—a lightsaber. He ignites it, and I can feel the heat from this distance. I think I’m grateful for the swift end, but I’m not sure.  
I cannot move from my back, and he straddles me, our positions reversed for the first time all night. He brings the crackling lightsaber, not over my heart, but my left wrist. Pain explodes in my arm, and he presses a gloved hand to my mouth to muffle my screams. There’s the acrid smell of burning flesh, and just when I’m sure he means to torture me to death, it’s gone.  
“Consider your debt paid.” I look at my arm, almost in a delirium. He’s burned away the Crimson Dawn brand, leaving my skin marred but clean. “Now there’s nothing that Hux could give you that I can’t.” 

An hour later, with bacta on my arm and a clear head, I let him lead me to his bedroom. Everything is standard, save the size of the bed, most likely to accommodate his height. I perch on the edge.  
“I thought you’d be happy.” His voice, I realize with shock, is no longer effected by the modulator. I can see long dark hair, wild to just above his shoulders. He doesn’t turn to look at me.  
“I am,” I say carefully. “But you don’t understand. Even with money, you don’t just leave a cartel. They’re still taking a loss.” I swallow, finally ready to admit it. “They won’t let me go.”  
“Stay here, then.” He turns his head slightly, until I can see his profile. Aquiline nose, full lips. So much younger than I expected. Maybe a few years older than me, if that.  
“I’ve…betrayed too many people here for that. Hux will have my head.”  
“Has he not already?” He doesn’t even give me time to retort. “I can get a place for you. Not here, but somewhere safe.”  
“Look at me.” My curiosity speaking.  
“What will you give me if I do?”  
“What do you want?” I’m perplexed by this boy, this man.  
“Only what you wanted from me. To know your weaknesses.” I stiffen, and he chuckles with his mouth closed. “I could hear your every thought with your senses otherwise occupied.”  
“Then face me.”  
“And if I’m deformed as you fear?”  
I shrug. “There’s been worse.”  
He turns, and for a second I think he is deformed, but it’s just the shadows dancing over a long, angry scar that snakes over his right eye. This is the end of the scar I’d fingered on his shoulder, I realize, and it’s much newer than I’d thought. I walk to him slowly and put my hand on his proud cheekbone, where bruising is just starting to recede under his maimed eye.  
“What—“  
“A gift,” he answers sullenly, “from an acquaintance.” There’s more to it than that, but I don’t press it. The Jedi Killer’s temper is legendary.  
“Gifts like that should be paid in kind,” I mutter bitterly. He lets it pass. Some memories should remain buried.  
He nods. “Soon. But there are other gifts to be dealt with.” With his long fingered hands, he reaches out and grabs the zipper of my jumpsuit, which he slowly unzips to my waist. I let him use his palms to slide the sleeves off my arms, leaving me in one of the many lacey black bras I save for work nights. He touches a strand of my blonde hair, winding it around his fingers  
I wonder what she looks like, this girl he’s trying to forget. Most people go one of two ways. They either want someone who looks just like the one they’re pining for, or the exact opposite. He seems too proud to use a decoy—I am guessing whoever the girl is, she’s not unusually tall and blonde like me.  
“You’re right.” He drops to his knees to unzip my suit more, and then I’m standing in my underwear in front of the most powerful man in the galaxy. My heart, so used to being in charge, gives an uncertain thump.  
“What can I do for you?”  
He barrels into me, and we hit the bed with an unnaturally soft landing. His lips find my neck as he tilts my chin back.  
“You already showed me all your tricks—shouted them at me, really. I just want to see if they work on you.” He gathers both my hands into his left one and moves them above my head, and just like on the floor, I can’t move them. I squirm halfheartedly, and he bites down on my ear making me gasp. It takes him ages to get to my breasts, which are aching in this tight bra. Forgetting all pretense, I arch my back, desperate for him to touch them.  
Grinning, he unclasps the strapless thing and brings a palm to my breast. This is not the overeager grabbing of a boy, but the experienced caress of a man. His thumb strokes the underside while he takes my other nipple in his mouth, sucking until it is hard and pebbled. He continues this, licking and sucking back and forth, until I’m sure I’m going to go insane. Just when I think I’ll drown in the denial of my own pleasure, he bites my breast hard, and I’m groaning and squirming to get away from him.  
“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns mildly. “We haven’t gotten to try out your best trick.” He slides away from me, and I can see the damp spot my wetness has left on his thigh. I mourn the loss of the pressure, but only for a moment. Because now the dark prince is kneeling between my legs, looking like a cat about to pounce. He hooks his fingers through the band of my panties and slides them off.  
Instinctively, I try to snap my legs closed, the exposure too much for me. He catches my knees and slides them apart again. “Open for me,” he mumbles. “And vulnerable. Isn’t that what you thought?” A frown creases his brows for a moment, then clears. “Yes, that’s exactly it. And you wanted to find the place that made me go crazy. Let’s find yours.”  
He slides on finger into me, then two, and my body accepts him so easily and hungrily it would be embarrassing, if I didn’t need it so badly. He strokes my walls until I’m close to panting again, the pulls out. I whine, kicking a foot.  
“Not there.” His fingers find my hood, and then the leather catches that little bundle of nerves, circling and teasing. I moan, but it’s so much, too much, and I’m wriggling away from him, still desperate for release.  
“Almost but not quite.” I can hear amusement in his voice, and I wonder how often he plays with his food before eating it. It would make him a fearsome adversary on a battlefield.  
When his tongue strokes at my slit, my hips buck, and I can feel his triumph. His fingers reenter me, and his tongue does terrible things to my self-control as he circles it around my clit. I know I’m moaning, and I might even be crying at this point. I keep waiting for him to fuck me, to end it, but he doesn’t. He’s going to make me break for him right here and now.  
When I finally do—oh, I want to grab his hair and twist it in my fingers, but my hands still aren’t my own—it’s world-shattering. I am wasted, totally spent, with my walls still pulsating around his fingers when he pulls me into a sitting position. He releases his hold on my arms so that I can wrap them around his neck.  
“Please,” I say, and I know I’m mumbling. “I’m done.”  
“But I’m not done,” he whispers. I flop back on my side, eyes fluttering, listening to his clothing hit the floor. The bed shifts with his weight as he kneels, and he pulls me onto his lap. “Up,” he commands, and I reflexively raise myself up and slide back down. He’s big, but my wrecked body takes all of him willingly. His hands are on my lower back, guiding me slowly at first, but soon he picks up speed, breathing heavily in my ear. I can feel every ounce of aggression in his body right now, and I briefly wonder who has made this man so angry. The thought is quickly pushed away by my mounting pleasure, and he groans into my neck as he comes, biting down hard on my delicate skin.  
It almost muffles the name he mutters.

He doesn’t want to be touched afterwards, which isn’t unusual in my clients. When he stumbles out of the refresher after me, his wounds are thrown into greater relief. This is a man with rights to not enjoying physical touch. You see it a lot in people who were starved of physical affection for a long period of time, or abused. I swallow back my pity, certain he will be able to feel it.  
There’s no time to sleep. My debt may be paid, but there’s still my old bosses to consider, not to mention Hux’s fury when he realizes Ren has outfoxed him. The ship is small, but it will do for a one-way journey. Ren is edgy now, a hood thrown up over his head. I think it is less for the duplicity of our actions and more to hide his wound from prying eyes.  
“Make sure you call in that you’re not a fighter craft, or they’ll blow you out of the sky before you get close. After that, just take this to Maz Kanata. Refuse to see anyone else.” He lays a heavy paper envelope in my hand. I haven’t seen these things used in some time. “It’ll have everything you need.”  
There’s no heavy farewell. There’s grief pooling around this boy, but it’s not for me. It never was. After I’ve left and set my course, I turn the envelope over in my hands and unseal it.  
_Maz,_  
_Help this one._  
_I know you owe me no more favors._  
_But I also know you gave it to the girl._  
_Consider us even._  
_Ben_


End file.
